


Because You Care

by orphan_account



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Platonic Relationship, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:59:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6024652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mutsuki comes back from Rue Island, and Urie notices that he's different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because You Care

**Author's Note:**

> I felt the need to do a character study with Tooru and Urie, and I've tried to put the correct amount of emphasis on both of them considering the subject matter of the fic.
> 
> There is no direct mention of sexual assault in this story, but if sexual assault or unwanted pregnancy, implied abortion, and/or brief instances of gender dysphoria aren't you're thing, this probably isn't the story for you.

Mutsuki was back, but he wasn't the same as before. He was emptier. Not that he’d been empty to begin with. The Q had been timid to start, but had worked until he’d developed himself something like courage. That was there, still, but it seemed now to inhabit a vacuum, a vacancy.

But empty wasn't the right word, was it? Urie sat on the couch, listening to Saiko and Aura debate the pros and cons of console versus PC gaming. Ginny was next to him, quietly sharing the same glazed boredom. He had no idea where Higemaru was.

It was a slow day. No work, no training. It was the lull that usually cropped up after the finer details of a major CCG operation had been taken care of. And none of them really knew what to do. With Mutsuki upstairs, as he was, it all somehow felt...inappropriate.

_…Sad._

Mutsuki was sad.  
**...**

Tooru observed himself in the mirror.

"I look like Sasaki," he whispered, rubbing a strand of white hair between his fingers. It was more brittle than his hair had been before. Not to any hindering degree, but enough that he noticed it. He quietly took the scissors he was holding and cropped the hair until it brushed the tips of his ears. The strands made a satisfying sound when the blade severed them from their stalks.

His hands and feet were shades of mottled black and grey. The medical technician had told him it would probably be a while until they turned back to normal. But, they felt the same. They didn’t hurt, not anymore. Even the very blackest tip of his finger.

Inside was where the real change was.

Tooru thought of the others downstairs. How lucky they were, and how lucky he was, that they couldn't feel what he did. If they had the slightest glimpse inside his mind they'd be irreversibly frightened, and he'd be dragged off to the padded walls of a CCG observation room for sure.

That couldn't happen.

Tooru glanced at the tear away calendar sitting on his nightstand.

He was running out of time.

He could feel it.

**…**

Urie set aside a plate of food before dinner that night. Mutsuki hadn't left his room since his unexpected, chaperoned return. A low-ranking CCG operative had been tasked with delivering the husk of their former squad mate to the chateau, and an unlabelled box that had retreated to Tooru’s room with him. They’d been there to make sure Mutsuki got where he was supposed to go, Urie supposed. He wasn't obviously pleased to be back, but he _was_ obviously deeply unsettled.

Once everyone had eaten and things were quieting down to pre-sleep levels, Urie put the plate in the microwave, and took it up to Mutsuki.

Urie climbed the stairs slightly louder than he normally would, audibly emphasizing his trek to Mutsuki's door. He wouldn't openly admit it, but he wanted to make sure he didn't catch the other half-ghoul off guard. The first time he knocked on Mutsuki's door, the guy had answered with blown pupils, shaking limbs, and breathing as ragged as Urie had ever heard. It had disturbed him.

He softly rapped the doors surface.

"Mutsuki," he called. "Dinner."

With his heightened senses, Urie could hear Mutsuki slide out from under his bed covers and drag himself across the floor with shuffling feet.

The door opened.

Urie blinked, and once again tried not to stare.

Mutsuki's hair was snow white from root to tip. And shorter, now. A little haphazard. It was reminiscent of parts of Sasaki's hair, before the Tuskiyama Operation. His fingertips were black, a creeping greyness extending up his limbs until suddenly disappearing halfway along the upper arm. It was only now that Mutsuki was wearing shorts that Urie could see his toes and legs were the same, right up to his knees.

There were deep dark bags under Mutsuki's eyes, and he held himself like someone who was tired of trying to wake up from the same god damn nightmare.

"Dinner," Urie posited again, holding out the plate. Mutsuki just stared at it.

"No," he said, and started to close the door, turning away.

Before Urie knew what he was doing, his foot was a doorstop.

"You...you have to eat."

Mutsuki was firmly anchored on the other side, preventing it from opening. For someone who looked so broken, he possessed a lot of physical determination.

"...I don't want that."

Urie was, to put it lightly, a little exasperated.

"Fine. What do you want? I'll go get it for you."

Silence.

"Mutsuki? What do you want?"

Silence.

"...Tooru?"

Suddenly the weight preventing the door from opening abated, and it swung wider to reveal more of Mutsuki's room. And there was Mutsuki. His eyes were downcast, his shoulders angled inwards.

"Urie, I..." he twisted his hands together, so hard Urie thought that grey-looking skin might slough off.

Six months ago, Urie might have begrudged Mutsuki his hesitation. Now, there was no such feeling.

Mutsuki suddenly pivoted and retreated into his room, settling heavily on the bed. Urie took a moment, and then followed, deciding the open door was an invitation. He sat next to his teammate.

They drowned in silence for a few minutes.

Urie was the first to surface.

"What happened to you?"

He'd gotten some ' _hmms_ ' and ' _haaas_ ' when he asked that question around the CCG, especially the squad that retrieved him. All they would say was they found Mutsuki being held prisoner in Aogiri's base. It seemed no one really knew except Mutsuki himself.

Mutsuki opened his hands and turned over his palms, examining them.

"...They cut me. Made me weak."

Urie had expected the other's voice to quiver, but it was solid and steady.

Loose palms tightened into fists.

"Urie, I'm...I'm afraid. I'm really scared."

Mutsuki looked away now, focused on the wall.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I..."

"You don't have to-"

"I think I'm pregnant."

Urie struggled to speak. His words died quiet deaths on his tongue as he pieced through the implications of what Mutsuki had said.

"...The...the CCG," he struggled to start. "They didn't give you anything to make sure you weren't...?"

"I didn't tell them."

"Why?"

Mutsuki faced Urie, a flat, hard, and desperate light in his eyes.

"Because if I was - if I am, I don't want to keep it. To carry it."

"You, you think the CCG would-"

"Yes."

Urie was briefly skeptical, but the more he thought about it, the more Mutsuki started to make sense. A synthetic ghoul pregnant with the child of a naturally occurring one? He could see the scientific red tape. The questions they’d want answered. What the higher ups would want to be done.

"What do you need?"

"A test."

**...**

When Urie left, Tooru wanted to die. Wanted to curl up under his bed and just forget. Everything.

_Then I'd be even more like Sasaki, wouldn't I?_

To not remember, to start over with an entirely new concept of who you were and what your life was like, seemed a blessing.

Tooru did not curl up under his bed and die. He gathered himself from the floor, where he'd mindlessly migrated to, and sat on top of his sheets, wrapped in all his blankets.

He felt raw with his disclosure. Embarrassed, and ashamed. But he had not seen any of the dreaded things on Urie's face he'd thought he'd witness - disgust hadn't been present for the barest moment. And that made Tooru feel the tiniest bit better. But he'd have a long way to go before he even thought about feeling like his old self, if he ever got there.

He drew his covers tighter around himself.

His room was a safe place. So was the Chateau. These people surrounding him - he wasn't too sure about the new Qs because he didn't know them very well, but they seemed to be safe, too. Urie was safe.

Not so long ago, Urie would have been the last person he'd have reached out to. And to a degree, he still held reservations. But the Quinx leader hadn't reacted the way Tooru thought he would've. Six months and then some of true leadership had made Urie dependable, if in a rather aggressive and standoffish way.

They were growing up. They were growing _together_ , again. They swore that they'd always remember Shirazu, but how could they fulfil that promise apart? Maybe this unexpected reunion, however ugly it's impetus, might have some outcome worth keeping.

Tooru wished Urie would come back faster.  


**…**

"For your wife?" the elderly cashier asked, smiling gently as Urie threw two pregnancy tests and a can of black coffee on the counter.

"( _Nosey hag_ ) A friend."

The cashier’s affixed smile wavered slightly. She raised her eyebrows. She rung him up. She took his money and gave him his change.

"Good luck," she said as Urie swept out of the corner store.

 _Luck, in this circumstance_ , Urie thought, popping the tab on his coffee, _would be the presence of absence._ **  
...**

Mutsuki had asked him to stay. Urie didn't know what to make of that, but did suppose watching a test like that alone could be daunting. Especially given the circumstances.

They sat on the floor across from each other, timer counting down on a phone. Mutsuki reached out his hand. Urie took it.

The timer sounded.

"Go check it. Please."

"Mutsu...Tooru, it's going to be...okay."

Urie picked himself up off the floor and went to the test where it lay, propped on a towel by the nightstand. He looked at the readout, a creeping heaviness crawling into his gut. He looked at the guide on the back of the box twice to be sure.

"So, it's positive," Tooru said evenly, noting the other man's silence.

"It could be wrong."

"It isn't."

"How can you be sure?"

"I just am."

"We should go-"

" _We_?" Tooru sounded angry now, truly incensed. "Is it _your_ body? Are _you_ hungry for human flesh? Are you-" he broke off and punched the floor.

Urie heard the wood creak, heard the voices downstairs falter, saw crushed splinters denied entry to Tooru's grey skin.

"I'm sorry," Urie said, face reddening with what felt like shame. "I wasn't thinking."

Tooru put his fingers to his temples, sighing. "It's not your fault," he breathed exasperatedly. "You're just trying to help."

Tooru straightened, softening. "But I'm not going to any doctor to determine this." He gestured to his abdomen. "I just feel it."

Urie nodded. "What's the next step?"

Tooru faltered, thinking.

"You can't go to a human doctor for the procedure you need."

"Are you suggesting...?"

"It's the only way."

"But how do we find one."

"We ask someone who knows where they are."  
**...**

_“But Mutsuki, how is it still-“_

_“Alive?”_

_“…yeah.”_

_“My frames broke, Urie. I can’t eat human food anymore.”_

**…**

Urie made the call the next morning in a local cafe, far from the prying ears of the Chateau. He'd bought a cheap phone from a street vendor. He didn't want the signal traced, or otherwise compromised. The layer of pedestrian noise would provide the perfect amount of privacy for the conversation.

The line picked up on the second ring.

"Sasaki Haise, speaking."

Sasaki's voice was hard. Urie couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger, but muffled it under reason. Sasaki, once so soft and ever-present, had changed. And it wasn’t Urie’s place to question why.

"It's Urie."

"Urie? Why are you calling from a different number – is this about Fueguchi again? I've told you twice, I don't want to-"

"Is your line secure?"

"...Yes. What's going on?"

"Tooru was held by Aogiri."

"I know that."

"They did things to him. Hurt him."

"..."

"It's been almost two months."

"...And?"

Sasaki's voice was hushed, and Urie thought, almost imperceptibly shaken. He dismissed it as wishful thinking, not that he’d admit to himself that he missed the way Sasaki used to be.

"He's pregnant. The CCG can't know."

There was a silence so long on the other end Urie almost thought the call had dropped.

"Throw away the phone you used for this conversation and buy a new one, use cash. Give me four hours, starting now. Call me when the time's up. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The line closed. Urie ordered a coffee and began to wait.

**…**

Tooru looked at the clothes Urie had bought for him.

"Are you serious?"

It was a stupid question. Urie was always serious.

"Yes."

"I'm not wearing that."

The dress was frumpy and otherwise completely ordinary, but that wasn't the issue. The issue was that it was a fucking dress.

Urie sounded as close as he'd ever been to an attempt at apologetic pleading. "We're going for indiscretion, Mutsuki."

"I don't want it."

"What's going to be more memorable - a boyfriend and girlfriend, or two boyfriends?"

"...Two boyfriends," Tooru conceded, unhappily. The uncomfortable feeling wedged itself in his throat and chest like it had always been there, that feeling he got when he presented feminine.

"I'll be with you the entire time...," Urie said, trailing off like he wanted to say something else, too.

"Thanks."

"...and I picked up some makeup from-"

"No."

And that was that.  
**...**

They left at night, while the others were sleeping or otherwise too consumed by their activities (namely, video games) to notice.

They'd semi-permanently dyed Tooru's hair for the occasion, a non-descript black. He'd dressed as a woman in the clothes Urie had bought. Tooru hadn't been happy about that, and had shirked the suggestion of makeup. Urie wasn't going to argue.

Urie wore a green wig, and glasses. He dressed in clothes that were too big for him, to make himself seem smaller. They looked completely different. They were nondescript. If anyone on the street or in the ghoul clinic were asked what the two of them appeared to be, they would be described as a young couple.

Tooru's arm stayed firmly linked with Urie's the entire trip.

**...**

Tooru focused on breathing in the subway. His arm was wrapped around Urie's so tightly, it was cutting off circulation to the other's hand. If it bothered him, Urie didn't say anything.

Tooru's arms and legs weren't grey anymore. Makeup on his face was intolerable to the highest degree, but on his arms and legs? It felt like dress up. Urie's skills as a painter had been useful - it wasn't completely perfect, but the layer of brown foundation would fulfil its purpose.

                _What will it be like?_

                On the phone, Sasaki had talked him through the general idea of how it worked, but there was still a huge unknown element that frightened him.

                _Tomorrow it will be over. Tomorrow it will be over._

                He carried this thought with him like a talisman all the way to the clinic entrance.

**…**

_“I promise, I’ll kill them.”_

_“That’s not your promise to make. And…you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.”_

_“You mean-?”_

_“Yes. I did.”_

**…**

Urie sat by the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Tooru’s chest.

He’d sat in the waiting room with him arm in arm, until Tooru’s fake name had been called. Tooru had been pale almost beyond recognition, but he got up and departed with the attending nurse anyway. It was the most determined Urie had seen him.

The procedure hadn’t taken very long, all things considered. Only an hour.

Urie didn’t have a concept of what the doctor would be doing, but after talking briefly on the phone with Sasaki, Tooru seemed to have the idea that it would be different than what would be done with a human patient.

Tooru's eyes fluttered, his hands grasping at the sheets.

"Is it...was it...," he croaked through dry anesthetized lips.

"It's over. The procedure was by the book, the doctor said."

Urie thought Tooru would smile, or be happy. But the tired half ghoul just seemed to sink into himself. Something solidified in him.

"Good," he mumbled, eyes now fully open and lucid. "Good..."

A nurse, wearing a smock over her street clothes, bustled over. She took his vitals, Tooru paying no mind, still gazing slightly blearily at Urie.

"You're recovering nicely from the suppressant, Ms. Ogawa. You should be feeling like your normal self soon," if the nurse noticed Tooru's flinch of disgust at being referred to in the feminine, she either attributed it to his current state, or pretended not to.

She was a prim-looking, middle aged woman. Clean face, hair held back in an efficient bun, and a smell like faintly like perfumed hand sanitizer. Smile lines around her eyes and mouth. Urie subtly examined her, trying to see if there was anything overtly “ghoulish” about her appearance or manner. There wasn't.

He wondered if she would be on shift when this place was raided by the CCG two months from now. If any of the patients currently sharing the space with the two of them would be there. Apparently, even ghouls needed doctors sometimes. And perhaps that was the reason the CCG saw the need to eradicate this place – an atrocious move, one to break up the make-shift healthcare network apparently thriving in underground Tokyo.

The nurse turned to him. "The doctor will want to keep her a few hours for observation. He'll want to make sure she can walk, answer some questions, and produce her kagune before you leave."

"Why?" Urie blurted out.

The nurse was obviously used to the question. She also looked like she was ready to skewer him.

"This procedure is major surgery where our kind is concerned," she said coolly. “This isn't something your girlfriend can just up and regenerate herself from, Mr...?"

"Ah, Watanabe," Urie supplied semi-sheepishly.

"Mr. Watanabe, you should have more consideration for the stress your partner is going through. She needed RC suppressant so we could ever operate in the first place. We've had to perform hysterectomies in cases like this before. The doctor wants to make sure she's recovered full use of her faculties before discharging her."

"Ah, I see ( _that’s more than I asked for_ )," he mumbled.

The nurse gave him the up and down with her eyes before asking, "Would you like anything before I go? Water?"

"No."

She raised her brows skeptically and turned to lay a hand on Tooru's shoulder before departing through the dividing curtain. "I'll be back to check on you again, Ms. Ogawa. If you need anything, just have your boyfriend come get me."

And she was gone.

"( _Nice nurse_ )," Urie growled sarcastically.

"Good nurse," Tooru corrected softly, a slight smile on his lips. "It's because she cares."

"She didn't have to lecture me."

"It's her job."

"To lecture me? ( _some job_ )"

"To make sure people get better."

Urie clasped his hands over her mouth, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He could tell Tooru still knew he was smiling, though.

Tooru sighed, settling back in his hospital bed. "This is a nice place," he observed. "I thought an unlicensed, ghoul-servicing clinic would be more..."

"Unsophisticated?"

"Yeah."

"Sasaki really came through for you, huh?"

"He did."

"Tooru?"

"Yes?"

"They want you to summon your kagune before they discharge you."

"That's fine."

"Tooru..."

"Hm?"

"Why did you tell me? Why not Saiko? I feel like she'd be more equipped for this kind of thing."

Tooru closed his eyes. Opened them. Gave an exhausted smile. It was thin, but it was genuine.

“She’d have been scared…more than me, maybe…”

Urie was content to let it lie at that. But Tooru continued.

"…and because you care, Kuki. You care more than you think you do."

**...**

Tooru slept, not with complete peace, but with more than he had before. And he knew then, in that moment, that someday he would come back to himself.

END

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you liked it!
> 
> The story is not meant to be an informational guide to abortion procedures – I figured since ghouls are self-healing they would need different methods for different health practices. If you want to learn more about actual abortion procedure, I recommend visiting this website here https://www.plannedparenthood.org/learn/abortion .


End file.
